


Waiting in the Wings

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 03:26:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1589954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt helps Blaine get ready for another night out with June.</p>
<p>set between 5x18 (“The Back-Up Plan”) and 5x19 (“Old Dog, New Tricks”), with no spoilers beyond 5x19</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting in the Wings

Sitting on the closed toilet seat in the loft’s bathroom, Kurt pulls up one leg to rest his foot on the lid and wrap his hands around his shin as he watches Blaine shave at the sink.

The soft scritch of the razor through shaving cream and stubble is a comforting sound, one that reminds him of his childhood. It’s late afternoon in New York, the sun golden through the living room windows, but part of him is caught in the pale early morning light of Ohio a decade ago, sitting on a different toilet seat in a different bathroom. He used to watch his father shave with much the same settled feeling of home he has now with Blaine, the same sounds of water and foam in his ears, although he was never distracted by his father the way his gaze drifts of its own accord to admire the limber flex of Blaine’s shoulders and the musculature of his arms bared by his sleeveless undershirt as he works.

Kurt can’t help it. Blaine is beautiful. He always has been to Kurt’s eyes.

“I’m hoping to be back at my apartment in time to watch _Real Housewives_ ,” Blaine says, tipping his head back and running the blades with careful strokes up the column of his neck. He rinses off the razor with a quick flick of his wrist in the water in the sink and then sets it back against his throat. There’s another whisper of sound, another swath of shaving cream and hair gone. “But I don’t know how long it’s going to go. You should watch it without me if I don’t call you before it starts.”

Kurt rests his chin on top of his knee with a sigh and watches skin appear from beneath the foam; he knows how warm and soft it is right after a shave - even if he also is thrilled by the rasp of Blaine’s stubble against his palms or cheek or stomach or inner thigh, so male and grown-up - and it’s a bit like a strip tease to see it exposed bit by bit by the razor’s progress. Out comes Blaine’s bare, perfect face. “Don’t be silly,” he says. “I’ll wait for you.”

Blaine meets his eyes in the mirror as he splashes the razor clean again, his eyebrows drawing together with a frown. “I know we’re only supposed to make a quick appearance at the party, because she wants me to be visible but not so available that everyone gets bored with me before the showcase, but you know June. She could change her mind. I might not be back until after midnight. And I know how much you love that show.”

“I do,” Kurt agrees, and honestly he’s mildly annoyed at the thought of having to wait to see it. The preview promised a big fight, and he’s excited to see if anyone gets their extensions pulled out. At least half of them deserve it. “But I like watching it with you. I can wait.”

Blaine’s expressive mouth, which had been tightening with concern, turns up into a smile, and Kurt knows it’s the right decision. Blaine’s been busy way more often than not these days, between his schoolwork and everything June is doing for him, and it’s almost hard for Kurt to remember how he used to feel claustrophobic. He’s happy for Blaine and supports him, but having to schedule watching a show on the phone with each other gives him an echo of tougher, leaner times in their relationship, back before New York, back when things got too fragile too fast.

Kurt thinks wistfully back to evenings after Blaine moved here, when they just went from dinner to the couch to bed without even having to think of it. He misses that ease, that intimacy, that simple flow of being together instead of it being all so choppy and hard some days. He misses _Blaine_. He looks forward to having it all again in the future, when it’s time for them to live together and weave their lives into each other’s the right way. He still wants that so much, even if that future isn’t now.

But it isn’t. Now is now, and that means he will wait to watch his housewives until Blaine gets home - to his own home, not theirs - because they just aren’t the same without Blaine’s quiet horror at their awful behavior.

“Thanks,” Blaine says. He turns his head, checking his progress in the mirror, and then starts in on the other side of his neck. “I’ll try not to be too late.”

“Don’t leave early because of me, Blaine,” Kurt insists. “Your night is important, and the show will be there when you get back.”

_And so will I_ , he adds silently. _Keeping the home fires burning._ It mostly feels good to think it. He likes being there for Blaine. He loves him, after all. It’s just hard to stay home instead of step out with him or into his own fabulous life.

He’s excited for Blaine’s opportunity with June. Of course he is. It’s an amazing opportunity for Blaine, and he’s thrilled to be able to be a part of it, too. He’s just been swaying in the background for too many years now, underappreciated, and since he hasn’t heard anything about what his role in the showcase will be a small, ungrateful part of him has to wonder if he’ll be relegated to just that, like he’s relegated to fashion advice and grooming tips instead of walking into that room tonight beside Blaine.

No, that’s not fair, he tells himself, dusting a bit of lint off of the knee of his pants. Blaine loves him and openly supports him. Blaine is his partner. Blaine _got_ him this part. He doesn’t think of Kurt being just a back-up singer, even if he has a much bigger opportunity than Kurt does right now.

And Kurt _is_ excited for him. He’s honestly _thrilled_ , every part of him beyond proud of what Blaine can do. He’s just ready to be excited for himself, too.

“Kurt!” Rachel calls from just outside the open door.

Kurt lifts his head in surprise, and he’s glad to see her shrill cry didn’t make Blaine’s hand slip, because the last thing any of them need is blood everywhere. Blaine only brought the one pair of dress pants, and he’ll never fit into Kurt’s. “I’m in here.”

Rachel sweeps into the room, though there’s hardly enough space in the bathroom for the grandeur of her entrance. “Oh, thank god you’re here,” she breathes.

“What’s wrong?” Blaine asks, pausing in his shaving to look over his shoulder at her.

“Keep going,” Kurt tells him. “We still have to pick out the rest of your outfit, and you don’t want to be late.”

Blaine nods and turns back to the sink, though his eyes are focused on Rachel in the mirror.

“I have an emergency,” she says. Wringing her hands, she looks at Kurt. “I need your help!” It’s all but a wail.

Kurt sits up straighter in alarm at how upset she looks, dropping his foot to the floor. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you working tomorrow afternoon?” she asks.

“No,” he says with a quick shake of his head and even quicker mental check of his schedule. “I’m out of class by noon. What do you need? Are you having a problem with Fanny? Oh, god, are they giving you notes?”

“What? Of course I’m not having a problem with Fanny.” Rachel’s chin lifts, and she crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing to thin, glittering slits. “The only notes I’m getting are words of _praise_ , Kurt. Why do you think I’m having a problem with Fanny?”

Kurt recoils a bit in the face of her glare and the quick shift in her emotions from needy to angry. “ _I_ don’t think you’re having a problem, but you said there was an emergency, so - “

“No, my Fanny is _fine_ , thank you,” Rachel says, ignoring the choked-off noise and wide eyes from Blaine at the sink. “What I’m having is a real life emergency. I need you to pick up my dry cleaning tomorrow.”

Kurt blinks. Did he hear that right? No, of _course_ he heard that right. “Dry cleaning?” he says flatly, all of his concern draining out of him. He stares at her for a second. “Really?”

She nods. “We’re supposed to be having some big VIPs at the show tomorrow night, and I _have_ to look my best when they come backstage.” She leans in toward him intently and lowers her voice. “I can’t name names, but they’re Oscar-winners. A-list. _Hollywood stars_ , Kurt.”

“Why are you whispering?” Kurt asks her. “There’s nobody here but us.”

“And since when don’t you name names?” Blaine adds, almost to himself, and Kurt meets his eyes in the mirror in agreement.

“Kurt, you _know_ how important it is to be dressed your best,” Rachel says. “And my new dress is at the cleaners. You know, the one that made that columnist for the Times say I looked like old Hollywood glamour and yet also young and fresh? I have to wear it. Or at least have it hanging over my door when I greet them in my dressing gown after the show.”

Privately thinking that he should revoke her access to the New York fashion blogs before she starts listening to entirely the wrong people, Kurt says, “You don’t have to be at the theater until the evening. Why don’t you get it? I’m not your personal assistant.”

Blaine lets out the drain, the sound of gurgling water flowing down the pipes filling the room, and he runs a washcloth under the tap.

“No, you aren’t, because if you were I wouldn’t have to beg you. And I can’t go because I have a massage in the afternoon to keep my muscles loose and then a steam treatment to help soothe my voice,” she says. “Being a star is very taxing, you know.”

Kurt doesn’t, actually, but he refuses to let it get under his skin. He wants his friends to succeed, after all. And maybe he’ll learn from some of their mistakes when it’s time for him to rise to the top. This level of diva behavior definitely seems like a mistake.

“Isn’t the dry cleaner just down the block?” Blaine asks. Leaning against the sink, he wipes off his face with the washcloth and watches them.

Kurt shakes his head. “We switched a couple of months ago when that one nearly destroyed my Vivienne Westwood sweater. The new place is further away, but at least they don’t ruin my clothes.”

“Oh.” Blaine sweeps the cloth over his face again, his skin now beautifully clear of both shaving cream and whiskers; Kurt thinks back to when Blaine used to shave fresh in the afternoon for _their_ dates. It feels like a long time ago. “That’s too bad. I liked Mrs. Alvarez.”

“Well, I liked my sweater,” Kurt replies.

“Please?” Rachel says, clasping her hands together in front of her. “You have the time. And I promise the next time you need me to get milk or something for you on the way home I will.”

There’s a sweet-smelling burst of musk in the room as Blaine pats on his aftershave, the scent going straight to Kurt’s gut and calming him down. That’s home, too, that smell, though it’s best when it’s mixed with Blaine’s skin and sweat, drawn right from that spot under Blaine’s ear that begs to be nuzzled by Kurt’s nose. Still, it’s soothing.

Kurt’s shoulders fall a bit, and he says, “Okay.” How can he not? He has homework, and he wouldn’t have minded a quiet couple of hours at home, but he’s got more quiet than not these days with Rachel at the theater at night, and friends are there to help friends. “Maybe I’ll stop by the music store, too, and pick up some new sheet music.”

“Thank you!” Rachel squeals, and she tackles him in a quick hug before sweeping back out the door. “I’m going to the theater!”

Tipping his head, Kurt watches Blaine wipe down the sink - the thoughtfulness makes Kurt’s heart throb happily - and says, “Do you want to come with me? We could get some lunch after class and head over. Or maybe stop by that chocolate bar on the way back? Indulge ourselves in one of their amazing eclairs?” He can see it all spinning out ahead of him: chatting on the subway with Blaine, walking hand-in-hand along the sidewalk, sharing an egg cream between them with two straws... So he has to stop at the dry cleaner for Rachel, too; it sounds like a near perfect afternoon with the man he loves in the city he loves nearly as much.

“Oh,” Blaine says. He folds the towel and puts it neatly in its place before turning again. He looks young and a little vulnerable in his undershirt, and his eyes are soft and apologetic. Kurt’s heart plummets in disappointment before Blaine even speaks. “I’d love to, Kurt. I really would. It sounds wonderful. But June wants me to - “

“It’s okay,” Kurt says, standing up. He can tell Blaine is honestly regretful and wishes he could go from the tone of his voice, and he doesn’t need to hear the rest, not this very minute. He forces a smile. “It’s fine. It was just a thought.” He waves it away, because it might have been a lovely thought, but it doesn’t matter. The answer is no. Blaine is busy with June. Kurt will just run the errand for Rachel and come back home and have his time alone after all. “Come on. You need to get dressed.”

Kurt heads toward his room, Blaine trailing after him almost silently in his bare feet.

Frowning at the options Blaine has brought, which are hanging neatly at the end of one of Kurt’s racks, Kurt weighs the two blazers in his mind and says, “I think the blue. The pattern is interesting but won’t be too busy if you’re photographed.”

“We’re not walking the red carpet or anything,” Blaine says, sitting carefully on Kurt’s bed. He looks so perfect there, his hair done and his face fresh but his throat and collarbones so vulnerable above the thin undershirt, and Kurt can’t help but recall simpler days when he could have just pushed him back onto the mattress and enjoyed him for a while. He knows just how Blaine’s eyes would light up at the touch of his hands, just how his arms would come up to tug Kurt close, just how his body would welcome him.

But not today. Blaine has to go out instead. It’s fine. They’ll have that another time.

Kurt pulls the blazer from the rack and lays it on the bed. “Lots of these events have photographers inside,” he says. “If you’re lucky you could be on Page Six!”

Blaine inhales sharply, a surprised, happy little sound, and Kurt smiles over at him and his excitement. His eyes are so bright, not for Kurt but for the idea. They’re still beautiful. “Do you really think so?”

“I bet June is planning on it,” Kurt tells him with a grin and turns back to select a shirt. “Which is why you need to be camera ready. You’re more than photogenic enough, but stark white could wash you out if they’re using a flash.” He pulls the pale blue shirt Blaine has brought. “This one. What ties do you have?”

“Um.” Blaine fumbles in his bag and brings out three different ties, all busy patterns.

They’re perfectly coordinated for Blaine’s everyday sense of style, but Kurt’s not entirely sure they’re _special_ enough. They may need to go shopping soon. Or maybe June will choose to take him instead, leaving Kurt out of it.

Kurt pushes aside that unhappy thought before it can dig into his chest and holds the ties up against the shirt one by one.

“Are they okay?” Blaine asks, pulling on his socks as he watches Kurt work.

“Mm,” Kurt replies, considering them each in turn. What he wouldn’t give for access to Vogue’s vaults to dress Blaine, but these will have to do. His own ties aren’t the right aesthetic to lend to him for the evening. “I just want you to look your best.”

Blaine catches his attention with a hand on his arm. When Kurt meets his eyes, he says, a little worriedly, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Kurt replies, making himself smile, because he does mean it.

“Kurt,“ Blaine says when Kurt looks back at the ties. “Are you okay? You seem - “

“I’m fine, Blaine. Let me help you.” Kurt lets his hands drop and looks him square in the eye. He might be a little melancholy, but he knows what’s important here. He knows what he wants to do. “I want to help you.”

“You always help me,” Blaine tells him warmly.

Kurt smiles over at him again, this time more easily. “Good,” he says with satisfaction. He touches Blaine’s shoulder for a moment, grounding them both, and then drapes the checked tie over the shirt on the bed. “This one.”

Blaine nods down at the combination. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he says quietly.

“You’d take New York by storm,” Kurt says, sitting down beside him on the edge of the mattress and letting Blaine sway into him. “That’s what you’d do.”

“I’ll do it better _with_ you,” Blaine tells him. His eyes are deep and full of fervent emotion, the certain, sure love he’s carried with him for so long, if not always when they needed it most.

But that’s long past. Things are so much better now.

Kurt rubs his hand down Blaine’s back and says, “Of course you will. We might both be excellent soloists, but we’re even better in a duet.” It’s one of the few constants of his life, knowing that Blaine is here at his side. It’s not always easy, but he feels confident that they’re really figuring it out. They’re working together. They’re taking care of each other and looking out for each other. They’re helping each other along. Kurt brought Blaine up on stage in front of June when he had the chance, and now Blaine is making a place for Kurt at June’s showcase. Everything is working out so well.

And he does want this so badly for Blaine, too.

Blaine’s smile is a little lopsided and sad, but he nods again. He puts his hand over on Kurt’s thigh, warm and sure, and says, “I love you. You know that, right?”

The melancholy of Blaine’s expression makes Kurt a little concerned, and he’s extra firm when he replies, “Of course I do.” He squeezes Blaine in a half-hug and says, “But we really do need to get you ready.”

Blaine searches his face for a moment before sighing and getting up. “I wish you could come with me.”

Kurt does, too, of course, but all he says is, “Another time.” He shakes out any nascent wrinkles daring to try to rumple the shirt from its few minutes on the bed and holds it out for Blaine to slip on.

It doesn’t take long to get Blaine all buttoned up and tucked in, even under Kurt’s critical eye, and when he’s finished Kurt says with pleasure, “Definitely Page Six material.”

Blaine laughs, flushing with pride as he catches Kurt’s eye in the full length mirror, and Kurt watches them there, Blaine all dressed up to perfection and him in his casual post-workout clothes, and he wonders if these will be their roles for a while. He wonders how long he’ll be destined to sway in the background and sing back-up for his friends, fetching their dry cleaning and planning their outfits and waiting for his time in the spotlight.

He doesn’t mind supporting them. Of course he doesn’t. He loves that Rachel is living her dream and Blaine’s star is rising to find his own. And he loves the slow but steady recognition he’s getting at NYADA. He knows he’s finding a path, even if the road is a bumpy one and he’s learned that choirs and bands are too unstable to get him where he wants to go. He’s trying, at least. He’s learning. He’ll get there, too.

He knows he will. He’s never giving up.

But as he dusts off Blaine’s shoulders and checks him over for lint, the part of him that didn’t get the solos he wanted in glee club and didn’t get into NYADA the first time at all wonders how long he’ll be waiting in the wings before it’s finally his time to take center stage.

He wants it. He can taste it. If he shuts his eyes, he can feel the spotlight on his face and hear the applause in his ears.

But when he opens them they aren’t there. Not yet.

Kurt sighs a little with frustration and the soul-deep yearning to reach his goals, but he keeps his smile fixed to his face. This isn’t Blaine’s fault, after all.

“I’ll call you as soon as I’m back,” Blaine promises, fastening his watch around his wrist. “When is too late?”

Kurt feels the quiet night stretching ahead of him, the apartment empty, his bed cold. “There’s no such thing as too late,” he says. “I’ll wait for you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Blaine replies, but his eyes are dark with the hope that Kurt will.

“We have housewives to watch,” Kurt says. “And besides, I want to hear about everything. I feel like you’re so busy I only get half the story from you about your adventures when I get it at all.”

Blaine’s eyes dance away, and he pats his pockets.

Kurt’s eyes narrow, because that looks like guilt. He can’t imagine what Blaine might feel guilty for except for being busy, and doesn’t he know that Kurt doesn’t judge him for that? He misses him, sometimes terribly, but he’s not mad. He knows what this will give Blaine. He wants him to have it. And it’s not like he isn’t independent, too. He just, unfortunately, has less going on right now.

“You could come back here tonight,” Kurt offers with a frown, hoping that reaching out is the right thing to help Blaine get rid of the guilt. “If you’d like. You can tell me about your night before we watch the show together.”

Blaine’s gaze finds its way back to Kurt’s face. “It might be late,” he says, worried again.

“I don’t mind,” Kurt tells him, even if it might be painful to get up for his morning classes. But he’s willing to give up some sleep to make them both feel better.

Blaine’s smile blooms slowly across his face, and his voice is as caramel-rich and warm as his eyes when he says, “Okay.”

Kurt’s smile comes to life in response, and he cups Blaine’s freshly shaven face in his hands, the skin so smooth beneath his palms, and leans in for a kiss. Blaine’s mouth is eager and quick to open, and he smells of toothpaste, after shave, and expensive fabrics. He smells like Blaine beneath it all. Home. So much of what Kurt wants. Not everything, but still so much.

Kurt’s still smiling as he pulls away, his heart fluttering in his chest and Blaine’s hands firm on his back.

“You’re going to be amazing tonight,” Kurt tells him, because for all that he might want to be in Blaine’s shoes or at least beside him in his own shoes he _knows_ Blaine deserves every single bit of praise and attention that is being showered on him. He doesn’t begrudge him even an iota of it. How could he? It’s Blaine.

“You would be, too,” Blaine says, soft and a little rough, that guilt in his eyes again.

Kurt kisses him once more, smoothing his thumbs along Blaine’s jaw and feeling the gentle stirring of desire in his belly, and says, “Another time.”

It’s a promise to them both: a promise to Blaine that he’ll be there with him someday and a promise to himself that he won’t always be in the background, cheering others on.

Because Kurt won’t. He’s a star, too. He is. He will be.

He’s not Rachel or Mercedes or even Blaine, but he’s still a star. He’s still made for the spotlight. He’s still going to conquer the world with his talent and get cheers of his own.

The world just hasn’t figured it out yet.

“Have an amazing night,” Kurt tells him as he leads Blaine to the door.

“You, too,” Blaine replies.

Kurt help but laugh. “Oh, yes,” he says dryly before he can stop himself. “Shoe shining, music organizing, and heating up a plate of Rachel’s leftover cooking. This is truly the stuff of dreams.”

“Kurt - “ Blaine’s face crumples a little, and Kurt leans in to kiss him again before the expression can truly take hold.

“Don’t worry about me, Blaine. I really am fine. Have an _amazing_ night,” Kurt repeats firmly, and Blaine looks into his eyes and clings to his hands before he nods.

“I love you. I’ll text you when I’m on my way,” Blaine promises, taking a slow but definitive step back.

“I’ll be here,” Kurt promises in reply. He leans in the doorway and waves as Blaine leaves, then slowly pulls the heavy door shut as Blaine’s footsteps echo down the hallway, taking him out to the next part of his great adventure.

Turning from the door, Kurt looks around the apartment - at its second-hand furniture and drafty windows, at its unoccupied spaces where friends should be but aren’t, at its four walls he alone has no reason to escape tonight - and feels the emptiness all around him, cool and stale.

He knows he’s not without accomplishments of his own. He’s not without hopes and dreams. He’s not without the possibility of the big, bright future he’s reaching for, too, not at all.

He’s just not there yet.

“I’ll be here,” he says again, this time in a sigh, and then he squares his shoulders and heads into his room to keep himself busy until Blaine returns, to keep moving forward in smaller ways until it’s his time to make the same big leaps his friends are.

It’s all he can do.

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: I am super crazy spoiler-free! Please do not spoil me for anything to do with the rest of season five or season six!


End file.
